The Night Sam Shot the Tartar
by mudstalker
Summary: A second adventure from the maker of "The World's Worst Stargate Fanfic." This story is extraordinarily goofy and is not to be taken seriously. However, if you are in the mood for something ridiculous, then be my guest! Enjoy!


Disclaimer: Though it may be hard to believe, I actually don't own these characters. They are all the property of MGM and stuff.

**The Night Sam Shot the Tartar**

The stargate whooshed open and the intrepid team flew through the gate, crashing into the turf surface of the yet-to-be explored planet.

"Ow, sir! Do we _always_ have to run through the gate?!" grumbled the sunny-haired Samantha Carter.

"It looks better if we make an impressive entrance," the intrepid Colonel O'Neil replied. "So, campers, welcome to P3x5-972-34556-988342-9991-2358-"

"Enough already! We know the planet's number!" groaned Daniel Jackson, his stargate-blue eyes blinking in the bright sun.

The planet was filled with wildflowers. Wonderful, golden and fire red, wildflowers. Teal's blinked. "Daniel Jackson, are you not allergic to wildflowers?"

"Oh, yes, I forgot," he said, breaking into thousands of sneezes, "thanks for reminding me."

"You are quite welcome."

"Well, I wonder who lives here," asked Jack.

"A group of descendents from the Russian/Mongolian area, to be precise. Probably pre-technology, brought here as part of a Gould breeding program. Intensely tribal and nomadic; the people probably treat women like slaves. Which isn't any use to us per se..." Daniel concluded.

"Now how in the world did you know that!?" Jack asked.

Daniel shrugged. "It's the way it always is... or seems to be. Besides, there's a Mongol."

The team looked where Daniel pointed and cried out as they were surrounded by not one person but several people, spears and other miscellaneous weapons raised.

"Actually, they are Tartars," Teal'c replied.

"Oh yeah, I didn't see the difference because my eyes were too watery."

"Indeed."

The head Tartar stepped forward, daring them to try and escape with his eyes. "I am Tartar," the man stated in perfect Russian-accent-tinted-English, "King of Sauces."

"Oh my gosh," Sam giggled, "Did he just say what I thought he said?"

"It's probably a surname," Daniel replied. "I just can't imagine..."

"Silence!" the Tartar commanded. "I see you have brought an unveiled woman with you! Such things shall not be tolerated!"

"Why is it only alien men that notice I'm a woman?" Sam pondered. "I have feelings! I have femininity! Just because I have a k-bar in my purse..."

"Shut up! You shall all come back to camp, where we will have a battle to see who is in the right."

"We'd better not offend them Jack," stated Daniel as several Tartars confiscated their weapons.

"For crying out loud! We can't just have Carter fight again! If she wins I'll never be able to show my face in the commissary again!"

"Why?" inquired Teal'c.

"Because she'll have won more fights than me."

"Indeed."

The team was led at spear point through a cold and dank swamp. Sam was thinking, "What if I can't win this fight?" Jack was thinking, "What if Sam's beautiful face gets marred by a scar from a spear?" Daniel was thinking, "Gee, here's _another_ planet who's culture we are going to destroy." Teal'c as thinking about Star Wars. As they rounded a very familiar pine tree with Spanish moss thrown on for effect, suddenly swamp piranhas leapt out of the water and attacked Daniel. Then, he tripped and sprained his ankle. Then, he was hit by a meteorite. Finally, he was almost drowned from the rain of his own gray cloud that had been constantly floating over his head from sheer depression that no one noticed anymore when he died.

Anyway, the team rounded a bend and rose out of the swamp only to meet a village made totally out of tents. The tents were bright colors and were shaped like butterfly wings, which was a brilliant and totally alien effect but quite impractical in the rain. "You will stop here!" said the King of Sauces, "I shall go and prepare your tent. We shall battle at dusk." With hardly a look back, he strutted into the largest tent.

As the team milled around, many bundled up figures came running by carrying wood and sticks. They hardly blinked at the new visitors. "You'd think they see people like us every day," murmured Jack.

"Indeed."

One of the men carrying sticks came up to Daniel with a strange smile. "Do you eat salt?" he inquired. Confused, Daniel nodded. The man grinned again and ran off. "There is definitely something going on here," grumbled Jack.

Twilight came all too fast on this planet, and when the team had gathered in the crowd-filled battle arena, they were a bit confused. Instead of a sandy gladiator pit or a jousting arena, they were confronted by huge stacks of wood and what seemed to be a tremendous fire-pit with several smaller fires already started. Two pyres rose like one-benched bleachers over the arena, and from them hung all manners of vegetables and herbs. Buckets of water and a handful of clay pots sat in an orderly fashion around the campfire, and Sam began to shiver with horror in suspicion. "No, they wouldn't be so cruel as to make me..."

Suddenly, amongst raucous cheers, the Tartar, King of Sauces, came out brandishing a paring knife. He gestured to two of his assistants, and they ran foreword. In moments, they had outfitted Sam with her weapons; a spoon, a knife, and a large skillet. "What in the name of McGyver!" Jack exclaimed in confusion. The king stepped forward.

"Behold," he began, the crowd stilling instantly, "I am your king, your King of Sauces! This unveiled woman from another planet has come to test her skills against mine, and we shall see who is the Iron Chef here tonight!" The crowd roared its approval.

"WHAT?!" Jack exclaimed. "How in the world do you know about Iron Chef?!"

The King blinked. "What? You are not the only race to get satellite TV. We connect with your satellites through the Stargate every night for prime time. 133 channels. Nothing good is ever on except for the Food Network and Wormhole X-treme."

"I believe episodes of Colombo are also beneficial to watch," Teal'c interjected.

"Enough! Let the battle begin! Your ingredient is as follows; that man!" the king declared, pointing right at the so-muscular-he-had-to-be-nourishing Daniel Jackson. "You are my guest so you get to take the best cuts."

"ME!" shouted Daniel. "No way! I've heard Sam's cooking can kill, but this is ridiculous!"

"Just back away," Sam shouted, her voice ringing out clipped and deadly. "I don't want to kill you, but I will if it means my friend's safety."

The king smiled evilly. "How will you kill me if all your weapons are mine?" he asked. Then, knife raised, he advanced towards the ice-pale Daniel Jackson.

Now was Sam's only chance. With a motion so smooth and graceful it had had to be practiced, she popped a gun out of her shirtsleeve and unceremoniously shot the Tartar. Silence abounded. Then, just when the team was ready to bolt for fear of the stillness, everyone began to cheer. Sam was lifted up into the air, and several people threw rose petals around her.

"Well, hail Dorothy," Jack muttered irritated. "What has everyone so in an uproar?"

"The king is dead!," they sang. "Now, we won't have to eat his cooking anymore!"

"Oh brother," sighed Daniel.

"Let us be going so that Sam will not become their new queen," Teal'c advised.

"Yes," said Jack as he hoisted Sam onto his own shoulders and made a break for the edge of camp. "We wouldn't want them to know what she really does to food when she cooks." Jack received a kick for that.

When the team could finally see the Stargate, Jack asked Sam the question that had been hanging on everyone's mind all through the long trek back to the gate. "Carter, where on Earth did you learn that gun-up-the-sleeve-trick?"

Sam grinned. "It's from an old obscure TV show," she replied. "I just perfected the idea."

"Hold the phone," stated Jack. "Is that how you set your dress uniform on fire?"

Sam blushed. Teal'c smiled. "Indeed it was, O'Neil."

"Teal'c and I just hadn't perfected the velocity of release with the power of the bullets in the chamber... but we thought we had enough evidence to go ahead and try it."

"Why wasn't I involved?!"

"We didn't want you to know in case we actually injured Daniel; he was our test dummy."

"Speaking of dummies, where is Daniel?"

The team looked around in dismay and stopped stock still when they noticed Daniel standing at a small shack near the base of the gate. A sign over the thatched roof read "Starbucks."

"Good grief, we're not safe anywhere!" cried Jack in despair as he grabbed Daniel and punched in Earth's address.

"Indeed," was Teal'c's reply as they were embraced by the shimmering event horizon. "Indeed."


End file.
